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The Reluctant Dark Knight/Part 10
Please note that only Numbuh 404 may edit this page. Dreading the Sunrise Greedy and Clumsy approached the kitchen door and peeked inside; when the coast was clear, they darted across the tiles and hid behind the dishwashing basin. Some muffled noises were barely audible from behind the storage room door. Clumsy whispered, “Did ya hear that, Greedy? I think something’s in there.” He pointed, and then his companion confirmed what he heard, so they made their way to it. They had to climb up the side of the counter and a spice shelf to reach the handle with one holding the other’s arm to keep them from falling. They opened it and pushed until the space was wide enough for them to fit through – what they saw in the darkness was a potato sack moving in a corner. “Gash,” Clumsy exclaimed quietly, “What’s that?” “I don’t know, Clumsy, but it’s a living creature,” Greedy replied as they approached it, “We should let it out. After all, the poor thing could be hungry!” They carefully crawled along the sides to reach the knot, and when both took hold of one end, they counted to three. Then they yanked and the bag fell away to reveal the court jester. “Peewit!” they cried happily. His response was muffled, but they could tell he was frantic to get the cloth away from his mouth. Clumsy hopped onto his shoulder and untied it for him. Finally the boy could speak, and the first thing he said was, “I’m gonna massacre the wise guy who did this to me!” “What happened, Peewit?” Greedy asked. While he rubbed the sore spot on his head, he explained how he was eating one minute, gagged in the next, and knocked out and thrown in the storage room by some stranger about his size. He claimed to have only seen the shadow before everything went black. Suddenly the door closed and the clicking lock was heard over their gasps; they were in complete darkness. On the other side of the door was the undercover servant, Gargamel, holding the key in his hand and a sly grin on his face; he sneered as he walked away. The door was too thick for two Smurfs and a little boy to break down, and without the key, there was no one who could let them out. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dance floor at the same moment his apprentice jogged up to him. “It’s about time you came back, boy!” he whispered hoarsely. “What news for our knight do you have?” “He needs a drink,” Scruple replied with a smirk. He tamed his copied blonde hair and fixed his wrinkled shirt. “He’s waiting in the courtyard, so hurry up, Garggy! This stupid cape’s starting to give me a rash.” He adjusted the collar of his red, fur-trimmed cape, hating that it had no turtleneck like his usual one. “Excellent!” The old wizard cried. He turned around and found a handcrafted glass chalice in one of the cupboards, and then noticed a tin of rainwater on the edge of the counter not too far from the knife rack. As he filled the glass, he told his apprentice, “Watch him drink this so our plans have no opportunity to backfire, Scruple.” “Of course,” he assured him slyly, taking the chalice, “I’ll make sure he drinks it all.” He was given another glass too. “What’s this one for?” “It’s your cup, genius,” Gargamel said, “so he won’t be suspicious.” Then he uncorked the vial from his pocket, poured it into the glass in his apprentice’s left hand, and stirred it with a pewter spoon he found behind him. Just then, they heard the familiar clicks and gears whirring that could only be made by one individual: Clockwork Smurf, who stood in the doorway. He had heard every word of their plan. For a minute, no one moved – the evildoers were stunned at the doll’s appearance, but finally Gargamel thought of something. He nodded to the boy, knowing he would catch on and play along; he put the glasses down on the counter to his left, taking note of which one had the potion. “Hello, Mr. Clockwork Smurf,” he greeted casually, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I didn’t want to have to explain our plan to you, but I suppose it’s no use denying.” He saw his apprentice sneak up behind the mechanical Smurf when he moved to the right, thus keeping his attention. “You see, we came in disguise so no one would recognize us until afterwards…” “Gotcha!” Scruple scooped him up in a small knapsack and quickly tied the opening while the doll struggled. “Stop moving and it’ll hurt less you dumb machine!” He beamed, tossing it in his hand, and looked at his master, “Not bad, huh Garggy?” “Good work, Scruple,” he complimented, pointing to the storage room, “I’ll take care of him while you deliver that chalice. Get moving before that knight comes looking for you!” He obeyed and grabbed the glasses, again checking to see which one was tainted, and held his own drink in his right hand. Then he raced out into the courtyard through the nearest doorway and, thankfully, found Johan still standing where he had last seen him. He was trying to pick the stray shrubbery out of his puffy sleeves and brushed off his sash before turning to the boy. “Sorry for the wait, sir Johan,” he said between breaths. He offered him the chalice in his left hand, adding, “We had a little trouble finding the tin of water.” “That’s okay, boy,” he replied, taking it from him. He looked in it for a moment and asked, “So, what happened to the real ''Peewit?” He watched his body language as he answered. “I had to lock him up in a dungeon cell, sir,” he lied with a tone of shame covering the truth. He took a sip from his cup and added, “This rainwater’s actually fresh. I haven’t had any in a good while – my master doesn’t let me.” That comment prompted his victim to drink some as well, and he agreed. “I hope you can forgive me for the trouble I’ve caused you tonight.” “Well, I suppose I can since you came clean…” He continued drinking the water while the boy spoke. “This disguise spell my master and I are using will wear off soon anyways, and then I can show you who put me up to this.” Johan was nearly done with his beverage when he told him, “You’ll show me where Peewit is first,” rather sternly. Scruple agreed, so he finished it off and immediately realized something was dreadfully wrong with the water; he choked on it and dropped the chalice. As it rolled away in the grass, he coughed and gasped for air with a pained look on his face. “What’s the matter?” The boy asked innocently. A devilish smile was creeping along the sides of his mouth as he watched him suffer. Johan kept one hand at the base of his neck and took a step back from him. “The last of it tasted like liquid rubber from the swamp!” His heart sank when he recognized the eager expression the boy was wearing. Suddenly he saw through his rouge. “You’re the old wizard’s apprentice…” “Took ya long enough,” he replied, kicking his glass. He watched it roll away towards the little apple tree and added, “I hope your intelligence proves more of a threat when you turn evil. I wonder why you didn’t realize the water was tainted until you finished it.” The chalice hit the tree and shattered – the shards disappeared between the tall weeds and blades of grass. Scruple shrugged. “Maybe it sank to the bottom while I got rid of the mechanical Smurf – I mean, he was gonna tell on us to the king and we couldn’t afford that.” Johan’s eyes were wide with a deep feeling of dread he had never felt before; the idea of being evil, let alone mischievous, was no part of him. As long as he could remember he had not a single mean bone in his body, or any recollections of being naughty as a child. He’d worked so hard to follow his dream, and here he was now, about to enter a dark and lonesome world. He cursed himself for not preventing this twisted fate. But by now it was too late – he had fallen for their trap. And this was only the beginning of his worst nightmare. '. . .' When King Gerard descended the stairs, he scanned the crowded dance floor for the suspicious characters he had heard about. He commanded two guards nearest to him to separate and alert the rest of the castle of intruders; then he appointed five more at a distance with hand signals to quickly and calmly escort the guests out. The party was over. They did as he instructed, allowing him and the first guard who had found him upstairs to proceed into the courtyards outside. He expected Johan to be nearby with some clue about what was going on, so he kept his eyes open for him. As he walked around in the grass, he noticed there were weeds sprouting up, so he told his guard to alert the gardeners to take care of them later. The man bowed his head and left his majesty’s side to carry out the order. Meanwhile, the boy-king caught a glimpse of something shiny between the blades of grass and tree roots of his baby apple tree. Curious, he knelt down and picked it up, astonished at the piece of broken glass now in his hand. Then he looked up and saw that a branch had been broken off – it was tossed carelessly, to his dismay. “What could have happened here?” he whispered, dropping the glass. “Better make sure this gets cleaned up, too.” He lifted the branch off the ground and returned to the tree, caressing the trunk gently. “Oh, my poor plant’s been hurt too…” He felt its pain as if it were his own. “That would be my fault, sire,” Johan confessed behind him. The king turned around and looked at him as he hung his head. He had never seen the knight so disheartened before, nor had his royal uniform been so tattered, as if he had been in a fight. “Peewit and I were out here earlier and I ran into this sapling. I lost my balance trying to get up and grabbed that branch you have there, but it snapped.” He approached him and put his hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, your highness.” “I forgive you, Johan,” he replied dispiritedly, “You didn’t mean to hurt Sasha – it was an accident.” “It was, and I’ll gladly make it up to you.” “I would appreciate that.” Then King Gerard furrowed his brow, setting the branch against the tree trunk, and asked, “Have you seen Clockwork lately?” The knight shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since we arrived at dusk. Is something wrong?” “I’m afraid he’s gone missing, and I thought you might have some idea of his whereabouts,” he said. Before he received an answer, three guards rushed to the scene with two captives in their custody. They were Gargamel and Scruple in their normal forms – the potion had worn off. King Gerard scowled and approached them with his arms crossed over his chest. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “We – we – we – we meant no harm, your highness,” Gargamel stuttered. He gave him a pleading expression and tried to smile as if he and the boy were guilty of no crime, but the king wasn’t buying it. He looked at the guards and caught their attention as he spoke with bitterness on the tip of his tongue. “I want these two out of my sight at once. Send them to the dungeons for now – I’ll see to it they have a more suitable punishment later.” Johan stepped in and put his hand on his shoulder. “Wait, King Gerard,” he stated, “Let me see to it they are sent home instead.” He was surprised, and so asked, “Why, Johan?” “Very well, Johan. I trust you won’t fail me.” He smiled too, so his companion nodded; he told the guards to let them go. “I won’t let them out of my sight, sire,” he added, walking away with the villains, “I promise.” Then, they disappeared across the courtyard and around the corner of the castle gates, moving towards the drawbridge. Upon his request, another guard fetched his horse from the stables. He tied the villains’ hands to the saddle with a spare rope from the satchel, and then mounted. He waited until they were across the moat and several hundred feet beyond the edge of the forest – surrounded by trees and shrubs in the darkness – before he pulled Bayard’s reins to stop. “I’ve held up ''my end of the deal,” he stated sourly, looking at Gargamel, “so now you hold up yours.” “Good work convincing the guards to let you lead us out of the castle,” he complimented. Bayard started cantering, so he and his apprentice kept walking – slowly at first. “Now, what I want you to do is very simple, my boy. Very simple indeed…” “I’m listening,” he replied. He checked over his shoulder to be sure no one was following them; he thought he heard extra hoof steps, but saw nothing. He continued searching through the trees as the old wizard told him his instructions. “All you need to worry about, tonight, is getting a good night’s sleep. I’ll have a task for you to complete in the morning. If you fulfill it, I will grant you freedom from the spell, but if you don’t, you’ll be calling me ‘master’ for the rest of your miserable life.” “Sleep?” “Yes, young knight,” he confirmed with a smirk, “Go home and rest so you’ll be in top shape for a job tomorrow, understand?” Johan thought it over a minute and agreed, but he had an unpleasant knot building up in his stomach – it may simply have been the potion penetrating his system. By then, they had reached a point in the road where he recognized the trees and noticed several Smurfberry bushes growing at his left. He thought briefly of the Smurfs and lowered his head, hoping his captives would not be thinking the same. “How much farther?” Scruple whined, tugging the rope. Bayard nipped his hat before his rider responded. “I’m leaving you at half the distance so I can return to the King’s castle for at least four-hour’s worth of sleep,” he said. He refused to set his eyes upon the boy, remembering the look in his eyes when he’d foolishly drunk the tainted water. “You can walk from there.” He heard him huff, and then no more protesting, so he was nearly silent as they strode along the dirt path. As they did, he subconsciously patted his horse’s neck every so often and fell into a self-induced trance, thinking about what his future will be. “Where is my friend?” he asked Scruple in a rough tone. “Look in the Storage Room in the kitchen. I shoved him in there – honest!” A simple nod was Johan’s response, and so they continued down the path in silence once more. Eventually they stopped at a fork in the road and Johan dismounted to untie their hands from the saddle, rewound the rope, and tucked it away in the satchel before remounting. Then he turned his horse around, looking back at the old wizard. “What of the morrow?” “Come to my hovel in the morning – anytime you like, but the sooner the better for your sake,” he said. He took hold of his apprentice’s arm and added, “Pleasant dreams,” in a dreadfully roguish tone. It sent a chill down the knight’s spine as he galloped away, and he would hear it in his head repeatedly until he reached the castle. Gargamel sneered as he and Scruple strolled away, congratulating each other on a plan – so far – well done. Author's Note Dealing with remarkably slow internet service is what prevented this chapter from being posted up sooner than later. After a lengthy break between the postage of Chapter 9 from Chapter 10, I'm happy to report that the villains have confirmed their intended target's demise, and now the story is going to take a dark turn for the heroes. Chapter 9 is back here, and Chapter 11 is up next.